


Death's Kiss

by silentsoundy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Kissing, Nudity, Other, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10217003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentsoundy/pseuds/silentsoundy
Summary: [another meme compilation I want to archive here][send in a symbol for a random kiss/embrace encounter between Muses]





	1. Fareeha "Pharah" Amari

> 38. Chest/Breast Kiss

_He’s not going to lie, for everything that he is and says and does, deep down he’s an ass-man all the way.  But with a rack like Fareeha’s and that heat and spice that comes with her whole package, he can’t help himself but want to bury his marred and scarred face between those beautiful breasts and stay there forever and ever and ever._

_Or until she’s done with him and kindly tells him to go fuck off._

_Either way, he’ll take it where he can get it, and right now he’s getting it pretty damn good._

Mmh…

_An echo to her enthusiastic moans and little snarls he oh so loves, it’s a bit hard for the Wraith to verbalize his usual snark and sarcasm while the monster’s lips, tongue and fangs are busying themselves worrying over a stiffened nipple and pressing all sorts of little love bites into that supple, slick, hot flesh._

_Oh, he knows he’ll be punished for leaving her skin marked up like that, his signature sprawled across her breasts for future lovers to gaze upon._

_But hell if it wasn’t worth it now._

Mhmm.


	2. Mercy

> 62. Family hug

_He’s seen it before, with other, younger recruits, and he had little time or patience to deal with a rookie suffering through such tragic loss.  He had read her file over and over again and even though she wouldn’t be assigned to his division, he had taken interest in her.  She was brilliant, a prodigy child and so very young to do what she’s been doing._

_She showed potential, for whatever that meant._

_And she carried about her…  however stupid and lame it sounded to Reyes, she carried about her this **aura**  of confidence and optimism that was quick to affect those that took to her company._

_Hell, it affected him, which he thought was fucking weird._

_So when he caught her all by her lonesome, off-hours outside in the empty Promenade, sitting on a bench and quietly mourning her memories, the whole picture smacked of pity, empathy, sympathy and stirred from the Blackwatch Commander something he’d never done for any other Rookie._

_Not even McCree._

_She’d find herself in his sudden company, a quiet not quite imposing figure having sat next to her as if seemingly slunk from whatever shadow he’d been lurking in._

Hey, kid.  You alright?

_He had been kind to her, toning down his usual gruff with every interaction they had shared, and it might have been that off-handed kindness that had given her the confidence or comfort to take one look at him and with a quibbling bottom lip…_

…no.

_A humbled confession that had earned her a sigh and an invitation to find some solace in an offered embrace._

_It would have been the better part of a good twenty minutes before she had shied away and apologizing for getting the front of his hoodie wet, to which Reyes had shrugged off, cracking a grin and offering to fetch his favourite comfort food with her._

_Chocolate glazed donuts and hot coffee._


	3. Ana Amari

> 35\. Romantic Kiss

_Oh he’ll take her jabs and remarks, every last one of them, as long as they come with that soft smile and knowing look in her eye when he tells her that they’ve got to make up for lost time.  It’s a vague statement, a simple proclamation that can mean everything.  Or nothing, so long as they both continue to silently agree to the terms and conditions of tea._

_And he knows he won’t be able to resist, not for long, he’ll be the first to crack, the first to press against the unspoken, underlying tension built between them.  The Reaper can’t help himself.  Reyes is too much of a coward to rein the monster’s mannerisms in any longer._

_But for whatever the Wraith desires, it’s the man it once was that steers and guides that hunger and longing, muzzling both beast and memories.  And when he judges the timing to be just right, how cliche!, he’ll ease the yoke and collar just a mote._

Ana, I–

_That’s all he’s got for her, words and snickers and grins and sighs all fade away to background white noise when the sniper offers him that coy smile._

_So soft, forgiving, even when it’s laced and tainted by the pain in her eye and the fatigue in her voice._

_He doesn’t care._

_It’s Ana._

_It’s a slow, lazy build from foreheads to noses pressed and ghosted together, from breathing in each other’s unique scent to the leaning of body weight into careful hands._

_He’s cold, so very cold._

_Her warmth spills from behind layers upon layers of clothing, walls, hesitation and what might have been an interrupted protest or acceptance, a hitched sigh._

_Her bottom lip trembles, his lips pluck the sweetness from it._

_Reaper’s eyes refuse to open after they part.  Not until he bids him to look at her.  And only then can he cast a downwards gaze._

…I’m tired of regretting, Ana.

_There’s nothing more to say._


	4. Shimada Genji

> 23. an eskimo kiss

_Colour him curious and intrigued and only a little bit taken aback by the forwardness the younger of the Shimada brothers had expressed towards… whatever it was he thought he was going to accomplish by approaching the Wraith is such a provocative manner._

Just what the hell are you–

_Alright, so yeah, Reaper’s given thought to all sorts of weirdness when it came to the Shimadas.  Who wouldn’t?  They were both attractive in their own right, respectively skilled, attributes that struck chords within the inner monster.  Enough to generate quite the odd hunger._

_For what, he couldn’t say.  Still, the rumbling was there, and it gnawed at the back of his brain._

_So when the young ninja had finally caught up to him, and had subsequently cuaght him off-guard, the next few actions had blanked his mind and made every muscle tense with apprehension._

_Some sort of obscure Japanese greeting hissed through the air in that tinny Omnic-like voice as the young man hung upside down before the Wraith, and before he could even think about pulling up a Hellfire to take aim, skull mask met metal face shield with a nuzzled scrape-scrape-scrape, and that was that._

_Soft laughter swallowed by shadows had left Reaper speechless._


	5. Gabriel Reyes

> 9. french kiss

_Reaper had idly wondered how he had tasted when he had been younger.  Was the taste laced with ignorance and desperation, cheap booze and stale cigarettes?  Junk food and chocolate?  Would the taste have been the same as what he’d tempted to steal from the younger version of himself that he’d decided to make his plaything for the evening?  Would it have been different?  Howso?_

_There had been no real way of telling, nothing that could assuage such doubts and curiosities other than to dive right in and believe that he and this strange familiarity before him were one and the same, and that odd circumstances had brought them together for whatever reason.  Or by chance._

_Who knew?_

_Either way, he hadn’t a single lick of regret or any compunctions about messing around with what could be considered a twin, a shade, a mirror image, or anything else so similarly put.  The Reaper had been hungry for something different, something new, and here was what had fallen into his lap that fateful night._

_Strange, strange occurrences indeed._

_And as he had predicted, it hadn’t taken much to lure his young, naive self away from prying eyes, to hide themselves away in some dark, dank corner of a seedy bar.  A few drinks, the right kind of words, a bit of physical touch and flattery and not an hour later quite a few of the aforementioned questions had been answered._

…mmh, tequila and Colgate…

_A breathy grunted inquiry as to what that meant had been silenced by an unnaturally cold mouth pressed against those full, liquor-warmed lips and a clammy tongue worming to push its way against its twin._

_Huh._

_He still used Colgate._


	6. Jesse McCree

> 40. Navel Kiss

_There were so many bruises and contusions.  Always blues and yellows, greens and purples, like a macabre watercolour portrait spilling across the rookie’s flesh, one that seemed to beg to be hung up by nails to be put on display, worshiped.  When McCree had been found, arrested, and brought in he had put up one hell of a fight, leaving his body a bloody mess for weeks and weeks.  Only a few years after and nothing seems to have changed.  Whether missions went violent, or he had picked a fight in the wrong (or right?) bar, it seemed as if the outlaw had never healed.  Never had unmarred skin, never had a chance to rest long enough to not force himself to hold back a wince or flinch._

_He carried himself with a carefree air about him, ice in that easy smile and mania in those dark eyes.  A laugh that could drop panties and run frost up a man’s spine in the same breath._

_Reyes knew the charade, understood the play the rookie cast himself as lead in.  Without exchanging a single word or dropping a whispered hint, the Commander knew the bruises ran deep, dug roots and hardened impenetrable armor._

_He’s seen it before, just not in someone so young._

_And he’s got bruises of his own to compare them to._

_They’ve used each other’s bodies to relieve stress and temporarily sate the insatiable, and in doing so had added to the bruises their own impressions of rose and pink, red and maroon.  With teeth and tongue, lips and mouth, strong hands with desperate grasps imprinting into flesh lingering possessiveness._

Jesse…

_It’s rare, but there’s tenderness that arises occasionally, either in Reyes or McCree, or in the rare instance, both together._

_With the rookie occupying his bed for the umpteenth time, sheets ruined, the air thick with the scent of what’s to come, the Commander catches a glimpse of what’s hidden under those bruises, the ice in those eyes melting to reveal that ache.  He had other ideas that night, his needs egging him on to want to renew those markings, imprint fresh bites and welts to claim the outlaw again.  Those eyes stayed his lusts._

_So with calloused hands, strong yet yielding, he has McCree settle back against the plush and softer things, and without breaking his gaze, dips down to place a single lingering kiss just under the rookie’s navel.  It’s an unspoken promise._

_He’ll be there for the outlaw, to mend and knit all those bruises and broken bones.  For as long as McCree wants him around._

_A damn shame he couldn’t keep it._


End file.
